


wind beneath my wings

by thunderylee



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Canon Universe, Fluff, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-09
Updated: 2006-09-09
Packaged: 2019-02-08 00:59:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12853302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Brendon has a complex.





	wind beneath my wings

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

“Does it ever get to your head?”

Brendon feigns surprise, like he hasn’t heard this question a million times over the course of the past year. “Does what?”

“The publicity,” the interviewer replies simply. “You have gone from small, hole-in-the-wall venues to giant arenas in less than six months. This will be your third tour this _year_ , and your shows are still selling out in pre-sale with any remaining tickets going for three times their cost on Ebay. You won Video of the _Year_. Doesn’t this type of media attention make you feel superior to the world?”

“Brendon already feels superior to the world,” Jon answers. “It’s just been recently that other people agree with him.”

“I like to think it’s because we’re different,” Brendon says, ignoring Jon. “Our style is unique while at the same time a combination of a bunch of genres, appealing to people of all ages as opposed to a target fan base.”

“I rest my case,” Jon announces, folding his arms proudly.

Brendon frowns for a split-second, just long enough for Ryan to notice before his face lights up again. “I don’t see anything wrong with being happy about our accomplishments as a _band_. We’re all in this together, you know.”

“Definitely,” agrees Spencer. “My head is way bigger than yours.”

Snapping her notebook shut, the interviewer stands up and shakes all four hands with a plastic smile. “Thank you for your time. Good luck with your career.”

As she walks away, Brendon leans towards Ryan and whispers, “Do I really act that pretentious?”

“Of course not,” Ryan lies.

~*~*~*~

“Hey, Ry, c’mere,” Spencer says from the couch, balancing his laptop on his knees. “You’ve got to see this.”

Ryan groans from the floor, where he is under the pretense of stretching out his back but really too lazy to move. “What is it?”

“Clips of our performances.” Spencer chuckles. “On mute, ’cause Brendon’s voice sounds like shit.”

“What’s so special about them?” Ryan asks, making no effort to even open his eyes.

“Your face,” Spencer says slowly. “During ‘I Write Sins’, when Brendon crosses the stage and grabs you.”

Ryan laughs. “That must be from one of the early shows. I got used to it as time went on.”

Spencer pauses. “Don’t you think he’s trying to tell you something?”

“What?” Ryan replies, popping open his eyes in confusion. “I wrote that song. What could he be trying to tell me?”

“Not with _words_ ,” says Spencer under his breath.

~*~*~*~

“I should get something pierced,” Brendon muses out loud, staring up at the sky from his reclining lounge chair. “What do you guys think?”

“Get your tongue pierced,” suggests Jon. “Drives the ladies _wild_.”

“Hmm,” Brendon replies in thought. “My mouth would be all swelled up for awhile. I wouldn’t be able to sing properly.”

“It might be an improvement,” Spencer jokes.

Brendon tosses a magazine at him.

“Get your dick pierced,” Jon says, laughing. “Then you’d have an excuse to show it to people.”

Brendon seriously contemplates this. “That might be good publicity.”

Spencer throws the magazine back, hitting Brendon square in the face.

“Ow, fucker!” Brendon exclaims in the midst of his laughter. “Okay, okay, I won’t get anything pierced. It was just a thought.”

“Besides,” adds Jon, “if you put a needle through your face, it might deflate your head.”

Brendon rolls his eyes. “What do you think, Ryan?”

Jumping slightly at the sudden change from silent observer to active participator, Ryan clears his throat importantly and tries to think of an answer that doesn’t make him sound like a fag. “A lip ring would accentuate your mouth,” he finally says, “which seems to be your best feature.”

Jon’s jaw drops while Spencer just shakes his head knowingly. Brendon surreptitiously runs his fingers over his bottom lip. “You think?”

Ryan shrugs noncommittally. “Sure.”

~*~*~*~

“ _Ow_ ,” whines Brendon, balancing half his weight onto Ryan as they leave the piercing shop. “It hurts.”

“It only hurts when you talk,” points out Jon. “Perfect excuse for you to shut up.”

Brendon frowns but says nothing as Ryan leads him to the car. Spencer drives, Jon rides shotgun, and Brendon rests the non-aching side of his face on Ryan’s shoulder in the backseat. Ryan wraps his arms around Brendon, smiling at his almost inaudible mewl of content and ignoring the amused looks from Spencer in the rearview mirror.

“He wants your cock,” Spencer tells him later, after they’ve sent Brendon to bed with a considerable dose of ibuprofen.

“No, he doesn’t,” Ryan argues, for lack of anything better to say.

“Yes. He does.” Spencer grabs Ryan by the chin and smirks when he flinches. “See? If I were Brendon, you would have just sat there and stared at me like you do to him on stage.”

“That doesn’t prove anything except that _Ryan_ wants _Brendon’s_ cock,” Jon points out. “Which is common knowledge.”

“I do _not_ -” Ryan begins, but Spencer cuts him off.

“No,” he agrees, and Ryan feels a sense of relief until Spencer adds, “I think he wants more than that.”

“Whatever.” Jon hops up and grabs his jacket. “I’m going to go out and get laid. Later.”

Ryan glares at Spencer as the door clicks shut behind Jon; Spencer regards him in amusement.

“So you think I’m a fag, then?” Ryan finally says, his eyes narrowing.

“No,” Spencer replies simply. “I think you’re in love with Brendon.”

“I think you’re crazy.”

“Am I?” Spencer turns his laptop around to face Ryan, showing him a close-up picture of Brendon cupping his face on stage. “What would you do if he kissed you?”

“Freak out,” Ryan answers honestly.

“And then?”

Ryan throws his hands in the air. “I don’t _know_ , okay? Even if I am thinking about him in that way, it’s your fucking fault because you’re the one who put the idea in my head in the first place.”

“Blame me all you want,” Spencer says, shrugging, “but the fact of the matter is that the idea was there all along. I just brought it to the surface.”

“Well, I sure as fuck didn’t put it there.”

“No, you didn’t,” Spencer says slowly. “Brendon did.”

~*~*~*~

“Hold still,” Ryan says quietly, his hand clamped tight on Brendon’s jaw as he swipes the damp Q-tip under Brendon’s swollen lip. “It’s taking longer to heal because you keep playing with it.”

“I can’t help it,” Brendon replies, his words muffled by Ryan’s grip. “It’s fun.”

Ryan smirks. “I bet.”

“Do you think the goopy shit will go away before our tour starts?”

“If you _take care of it_ ,” Ryan emphasizes. “I’m not always going to be here to clean your goddamn piercing.”

“It feels better when you do it,” Brendon protests, sneaking his tongue out of his mouth to flick the ring from side to side.

“Stop it!” Ryan exclaims, smacking Brendon lightly on the shoulder.

“It’s involuntary, I swear!” Brendon widens his eyes and pouts.

Ryan takes the opportunity to examine the inside of Brendon’s piercing, and definitely _not_ the fullness of Brendon’s bottom lip. “The inside is healing nicely,” he says, as though he’s some sort of expert on the subject. “You’ve been using the mouthwash?”

In response, Brendon exhales forcibly. “You know how I am about that.”

“Yeah, obsessive-compulsive much?” Ryan chuckles, letting go of Brendon’s face long enough to grab another Q-tip and spray it with the sea-salt mixture. Carefully, he rubs the moist cotton along the length of the ring, getting both the inside and outside while pushing it gently through the hole with his fingertip.

“That feels _so weird_ ,” says Brendon, his jaw trembling like he’s trying not to laugh.

“There.” Ryan drops his hands to his side and takes a step back, admiring his work. “It’s all shiny and clean. Now _stop playing with it_.”

“You sound like my mother,” Brendon says amusedly. “‘If you keep playing with it, it’s going to fall off!'”

Ryan snorts and smacks Brendon again as he catches sight of the ring moving. “Leave it alone!” he cries, ignoring the twitch in his gut when he sees a sliver of tongue slip out of Brendon’s mouth.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” Brendon insists. “Look, I can even bite it!”

Ryan closes his eyes and wills his erection to go away.

~*~*~*~

The first time they perform ‘I Write Sins’ on the winter tour, Ryan forgets the words. This isn’t very noticeable to anyone except himself, since he more or less moves his mouth in time to Brendon’s and hums the harmony into the microphone they share. He told Spencer that he was used to this – he _should_ be used to it by now; it’s only the seventeen millionth time that Brendon has grabbed his face and stared hard into his eyes while he sings.

It’s the first time with his lip ring, however, and Ryan can’t keep his eyes off of it. Even offstage, he speaks to Brendon’s mouth rather than his person as a whole. It doesn’t help that Brendon is adamant about flicking it with his tongue whenever he’s not talking, eating, or sleeping. He’s even started taking it between his teeth when he’s thinking, much to Ryan’s discomfort.

“Whew!” Jon exclaims as they gather backstage after the show. “You could cut through the sexual tension on that stage with a knife!”

“Between whom?” Brendon asks, appearing interested.

“Me and Spence,” Jon replies sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “‘Cause, you know, I was totally grinding up against him during ‘I Write Sins’, looking deep into his eyes like I wanted to fuck his brains out.”

“Really?” Brendon’s face lights up. “That’s awesome. We can leave you two alone. Come on, Ryan.”

Spencer starts to open his mouth, seeming to think better of it as Brendon drags Ryan through the back door of the venue and into the night.

Ryan can hear them both cracking up as Brendon lets go of his arm in favor of his hand, intertwining their fingers together as Brendon leads him towards their bus. Ryan is partially grateful for this relocation; he’s hot and sweaty from the show, and his makeup is starting to sting his eyes.

“Spence and _Jon_ ,” Brendon says, shaking his head is disbelief. “Who would have thought?” He stops short and sucks his lip ring into his mouth. “How could Jon grind up against him when Spencer’s sitting down to play the drums?”

“I’m pretty sure he was referring to _us_ ,” Ryan says slowly, snatching his hand away from Brendon’s and heading down the hallway. “I’m taking a shower.”

“Us?” Brendon says quizzically. “But we do that at every show.” He pauses, and Ryan is almost in the bathroom when he hears, “You said it didn’t bother you! Has it started bothering you?”

“No,” Ryan calls out. “It doesn’t _bother_ me.”

Once in the privacy of the tiny bathroom, Ryan strips off his heavy costume and steps into the even tinier shower, welcoming the lukewarm water on his face. His hand slides down his stomach to wrap around his cock without prior thought; he’s done this entirely too much in the past couple weeks for it to be an actual mindful event anymore. Damn Brendon and his lip ring. He has _no_ idea what he does to Ryan now.

Ryan is so into his efforts that he doesn’t hear the door open. “Ryan, I – oh, _shit_ , I’m sorry.”

Reluctantly pulling his hand away from his cock, Ryan glares through the frosted glass of the shower door with the passion of a thousand fiery suns. “Get out.”

Brendon starts to leave, but stops in his tracks as his eyes lower to Ryan’s crotch. “Are you sure?”

Ryan’s jaw drops as Brendon licks his lips. “No.”

He isn’t even aware that he spoke the word until Brendon’s fingers are unfastening the buttons of his shirt at lightning speed, his clothes falling to the floor, revealing a rather impressive erection. Ryan backs up into the tile wall as Brendon squeezes into the shower; it’s a tight fit in the small space that’s meant for one.

“This is my fault, isn’t it?” Brendon says softly, his breath ghosting Ryan’s face as he trails his fingers along Ryan’s waistline.

“Yes,” Ryan spits bitterly, eyeing the naked form before him and resisting the urge to throw him up against the wall. “Either touch me or get out. I’m tired of your relentless teasing.”

“It’s only relentless if it’s intended,” Brendon replies, leaning his forehead against Ryan’s. “While it was not intended, I certainly don’t mind paying the consequences.”

With that, Brendon’s hand is around Ryan’s cock and Ryan moans into Brendon’s mouth as he leans in for a kiss. It hasn’t been six weeks since the piercing yet, but for the most part it has healed and Ryan figures that Brendon will let him know if it gets sore. As it is, he’s kissing back fiercely enough, the cool metal pressing into Ryan’s bottom lip as his mouth falls open to allow their tongues to graze each other before Brendon pulls away.

“This is unbelievable,” he whispers, pressing his lips to the corner of Ryan’s mouth.

“Yeah,” Ryan gasps. “The ring must make it feel amazing.”

“The ring has nothing to do with it,” says Brendon, leaning in to kiss him again.

Ryan arches into Brendon’s touch, the slow but firm stroking making his head spin. He feels Brendon’s cock poking into his thigh and pries one of his hands away from Brendon’s arms to drag his fingers lightly along the length.

Brendon groans. “Now who’s teasing?”

Tightening his grip, Ryan pumps Brendon like he does himself and Brendon flattens him against the wall. The water hits the back of Brendon’s head and pours down their faces and bodies, creating a slippery friction in which their cocks slide between hands and stomachs, their free arms squishing them together as they devour each other’s mouths.

Brendon’s breath hitches in his throat suddenly, and Ryan feels a warmth cover his hand. He releases Brendon’s cock as though it burned him, breaking their kiss in order to watch his face as he regains his composure. Brendon’s eyes pop open as he pants for air, the corners of his lips curling upwards into a smile. “I always come quickly the first time.”

“Good to know,” Ryan mumbles, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as Brendon squeezes his cock from base to tip. “It always takes me forever.”

“Good to know,” Brendon echoes, his voice sounding far away.

Ryan glances down to see Brendon dropping to his knees. “Brendon, don’t, it’ll hurt your lip,” he says earnestly, his hands completely defying his words by tangling in Brendon’s wet hair.

“I’ll be fine.” He looks up at Ryan from between his legs. “I haven’t done this before, so I might suck at it.”

“I think that’s the point,” Ryan replies, his voice trailing off into a moan as Brendon tentatively licks the head of his cock. “Fuck, Bren, _please_.”

Slowly, Brendon guides Ryan’s cock to his lips, parting them as he takes in a little bit at a time. Ryan knows that he needs to go slow, but all he wants to do is grab fistfuls of his hair and hold him still while he fucks his mouth. In due time, he tells himself, groaning deeply as he watches his cock disappear past those full lips inch by inch.

The ball of Brendon’s lip ring grazes Ryan’s flesh as he starts to move, and Ryan thinks that it might possibly be the best feeling in the world. He tries his best not to guide Brendon by his hair, although he can’t stop himself from tugging firmly, which Brendon seems to like judging by the way he moans around Ryan’s cock.

“ _Shit_ ,” Ryan growls, thrusting into Brendon’s mouth without thinking. He immediately looks down and sees Brendon cringe in pain. “Stop, Bren. _Stop_.”

Brendon holds his hand to his mouth as Ryan helps him up into a standing position. “I thought I could do it. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Ryan replies, prying Brendon’s hand away so that he could press light kisses around the angry-looking lip ring. “It was my fault – you were so good I couldn’t help it.”

Smiling, Brendon returns Ryan’s kisses chastely. “Let me make it up to you.” He reaches behind him to turn off the shower and slides open the door to grab two towels. “Dry off and meet me in my bunk,” he says, winking as he tosses Ryan a towel.

Ryan watches as Brendon steps out of the shower and quickly pats himself down with the towel before wrapping it around his head like a turban and strolling out of the bathroom completely naked. After he leaves, Ryan takes his time standing there and wondering what just happened, finally making the executive decision to think about it later. He dries off just enough so that he’s not dripping and ties the towel around his waist, seeing no reason to get dressed.

Brendon’s curtains are closed when Ryan reaches his bunk, but an arm blindly stretches out to grab Ryan by the shoulder and pull him inside. He falls on top of Brendon and barely notices when Brendon whips his towel away and closes the curtains behind him.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Brendon says against Ryan’s lips as he leans up for a kiss. “With you.”

Ryan moans in response, sounding more like a purr as he slides his hands up and down Brendon’s semi-slicked torso. “Admit it. It was intended.”

“Maybe a little,” Brendon replies. “But I never thought that you’d feel the same way.”

“That’s what you get for thinking,” Ryan quips, carefully flicking the lip ring with his tongue. “Does that hurt?”

Brendon shakes his head. “No. It feels amazing.” He pushes a small tube into Ryan’s hand. “Here.”

“What’s this?” Ryan asks, squinting to see the label in the darkness.

“It’s lube, genius,” Brendon says with a chuckle. “You put it on your fingers and then… you know.”

“You keep lube in your bunk?” Ryan asks incredulously.

Brendon snorts. “Like you don’t.”

“I don’t,” Ryan insists. “I haven’t, um, done that… there.”

“You should,” Brendon says, snatching the tube back and coating Ryan’s fingers himself. “Or, you know, maybe I could do it for you sometime.”

“Okay,” Ryan agrees hesitantly, sliding his slippery fingers down Brendon’s chest as Brendon lifts his knees to accommodate. Brendon’s body trembles underneath him as he passes his impossibly hard cock and tight balls, circling the tiny hole. “I just, um, stick them in?”

“Yes, please,” Brendon whines, his voice strained. “One at a time. I’ll let you know.”

Ryan nods and pokes his forefinger through the tight ring of muscles, pushing past the resistance when Brendon moans in encouragement. He moves it in and out, wiggling it around until he feels Brendon open up to him and slips in a second.

Brendon inhales sharply as Ryan bends his fingers and grazes something spongey. “Right _there_ , Ryan. Oh, my _God_.”

Biting his lip in concentration, Ryan tries to keep rubbing that spot while Brendon squirms uncontrollably and moans with every breath. By the time he has all three fingers inside of him, Ryan’s cock is digging into the back of Brendon’s thigh and grinding in time with his efforts.

“Fuck, Ryan,” Brendon gasps, reaching between them to stroke Ryan with his lubricated hand, smearing the substance from base to tip. “I want you to fuck me.”

Speechless, Ryan grunts his agreement and withdraws his fingers, positioning himself between Brendon’s legs. He raises his eyes to see Brendon staring down at him, looking terrified. “Have you done this before?”

“Not with another person,” he admits, sucking his lip ring into his mouth. “My toy is much smaller than you are.”

“I don’t have to -” Ryan begins, starting to lift his lower half up.

“No,” Brendon says firmly, reaching around his legs to grab Ryan by the ass. “I want you to. Now. Do it. Do _me_.”

Without another thought, Ryan places the head of his cock at Brendon’s entrance and slowly pushes forward. Brendon gasps but manages to relax enough for Ryan to proceed, filling him inch by inch until his entire length is buried inside. Looping his arms around Brendon’s thighs, Ryan struggles to breathe as Brendon’s muscles contract around him, as though trying to push him out.

“How’s it feel?” Brendon whispers, lifting his hand to push Ryan’s damp hair out of his eyes.

“Tight,” Ryan replies, his voice higher than normal. “ _Fuck_. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Brendon says soothingly. “Move, Ryan.”

Ryan’s scared to move; he thinks that if he pulls out, Brendon’s body won’t let him back in. Just a fraction of an inch in either direction is enough to make him groan, rocking his hips in the slightest of motions to get that tiny bit of friction. “Brendon,” he breathes, closing his eyes to revel in the incredible feeling.

“Ryan, _move_ ,” Brendon says urgently. “I need you to move.”

Ryan moves. He ends up having to slam his cock into Brendon’s ass in order to return, but he feels himself hit that spot and Brendon’s muscles clench around him much tighter than before. Brendon arches his back and wails Ryan’s name in a long, continuous moan, pushing up to meet Ryan’s thrusts.

Quickening his pace despite the restrictions, Ryan takes care to pound against that spot while removing one of his hands from Brendon’s thigh to stroke his cock.

“Shit!” Brendon hisses, tossing his head back hard enough to make the mattress bounce. “Fuck, Ryan, I’m going to come. Oh, _fuck_!”

Ryan has to correct his previous statement: Brendon coming _around_ him is the best feeling in the world. His mind blanks as the rest of his body explodes in orgiastic bliss, and he collapses on top of Brendon as he slowly regains consciousness, clinging onto him as though he’s going to get up and leave.

“Oh, my Jesus,” Brendon whispers, lowering his shaky knees and running his fingers through Ryan’s hair. “I am so fucking in love with you.”

Ryan lifts his head and tries to focus through his hazy vision. “Really?”

Brendon nods, biting his lip ring nervously. “I’m surprised you couldn’t tell. I’m always touching you, and I don’t think I would have gotten my lip pierced if you didn’t imply that you think it’s hot.”

“I do think it’s hot,” Ryan says in a low voice, leaning down for a kiss. “I think _you’re_ hot, I love the way you touch me, and I’m pretty sure I’m fucking in love with you too.”

Brendon grins. “You’re going to give me a big head.”

“You already have a big head,” Ryan mumbles against Brendon’s lips, smiling when Brendon pouts. “Just remember who gave it to you in the first place.”

~*~*~*~

“So, Brendon, your fans have had quite a positive reaction to your new facial piercing.” The interviewer smiles her plastic smile and shoves her microphone under Brendon’s nose. “Tell us, what influenced you to do something so drastic?”

“It was Ryan’s idea, essentially,” Brendon replies, squeezing Ryan around the shoulders. “He thought that it would call attention to my mouth, which really is my best feature.”

“It’s good to know the needle didn’t deflate your big head,” Jon speaks up.

The interviewer giggles annoyingly. “So the ladies of America have Ryan Ross to thank for their newest sexual obsession?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Brendon replies, waving his hand dismissively. “They could have thanked him long before the lip ring.”

Ryan smiles proudly.


End file.
